Copyrighted Material C.J. Birch © – All rights reserved


Powdered pleasure.
Like icing sugar, on top.
This is what I think they think when they buy rhino horn to simulate sex.
Just because you eat a rhino horn, it does not make you a rhino.
It does not make you an African, either.
Did you ever see an African eat a rhino horn?
No.  Because why?
They just know better than to rape Mother Nature.
The best thing – they don’t even try to poach her.
Because why?
Because they understand the power of patience.  
Of waiting.
Because they have indomitable faith in Her faith.
Because they will never stop hoping, praying their way and believing in a reason for their suffering.
That kind of strength is something to behold.
The Beholden.  Beheld.
It is a supernatural force, this feeling.
Something we can all aspire to, and reach. 
Also, I will say it.  I say it can be said. 
Just who are you to say I cannot? 
We can all aspire to reaching the season of their vision, our vista. 
They don’t disrespect natural process, or progress.  
Bushmen still bury ostrich eggs in the sand.  The stars tell them why.
Anytime you stare in an African’s eyes, really stare with time to see, you understand that they simply see more beauty in the horn before it gets chopped off.
That is the way it should be.  I am of the exact opinion.  
Nature is not a commodity.  She is our life-blood – which also means yours.
China, please for once can you find your own rhinos?
We love ours.  
If you must chop up things, chop up yourselves for change.  
You can become your own aphrodisiac.

2 responses to “APHRODISIAC‏

  1. Pingback: APHRODISIAC‏ « Louis Cecile's Poetry Blog

  2. louiville

    I really enjoyed the metaphor used that completely sends the reader in another direction from the first impression.

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